


Atypical Circumstances

by dragon_with_a_teacup



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works
Genre: Action/Adventure, Airplanes, First Meetings, Flying, Friendship, Gen, Mentioned Samirah al-Abbas/Amir Fadlan, Minor Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Percy and Samirah are a dynamic duo, Percy is a Dork, Percy is retired, Pilot Samirah, Post-Canon, Samirah is my queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_with_a_teacup/pseuds/dragon_with_a_teacup
Summary: "What did you just do to my co-pilot?”“Uh, kind of a Jedi mind trick with the Mist. Harmless, I promise. So,” Percy grabbed her chair’s armrest and leaned over, “you’re a demigod?”Sam looked askance. “Is this really the time?”Twenty-seven year old Percy Jackson just wanted a typical trip home. But life for demigods, even retired ones, is never that easy.





	Atypical Circumstances

“There are five exits off this aircraft: two at the front, two over the wings, and one in the rear. Please take a moment to locate the nearest exit to you. Keep in mind, it might be behind you….”

Percy tuned out the rest of the safety instructions in favor of flipping through the _Sky Mall_ magazine in the seat pocket. He’d heard all this before, and wasn’t that worried. Despite being a son of Poseidon, flying was no longer a concern. After all, Zeus smiting him would be bad form, considering how many times Percy had saved the gods’ sorry hides. And even Zeus wouldn’t be foolish enough to invoke the wrath of Annabeth Chase and Sally Jackson if anything happened to him.

Besides, Percy wanted to get back to California, and driving would take too long. And it was only a six-hour flight; what could go wrong?

He turned his attention back to the overhead speakers when he noticed the pilot was speaking: “The weather should be fine in San Francisco upon arrival, though we might experience some minor turbulence as we head toward the Midwest. Overall, though, the flight should be uneventful, so sit back and enjoy the ride. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for takeoff.”

She hung up just as Percy’s phone buzzed.

_Text me when you land!_

Percy smiled, sent back a winking emoji, then switched off his phone. He could tell Annabeth was nervous for him, though she didn’t let on. After all these years, she still hadn’t brought herself to trust Zeus.

The plane taxied, waited on the runway for a few minutes, then took off. Everything was smooth, but only once they were well above the clouds and climbing did Percy let himself relax. He put in earbuds and let the playlist Will Solace had made for Percy and Annabeth’s latest anniversary wash over him.

About an hour later, he was just starting to doze off when the plane jolted and woke him. The drinks cart rattled a few rows away, but the flight attendant smiled calmly. “We must be over those storms,” she addressed everyone. “Nothing to worry about.”

The turbulence continued for the next few moments. Percy got a Coke from the drinks cart (slightly sad he couldn’t ask for a blue one), but the next shudder of the plane sent it all over him and the other person in their two-seat row.

“Oh god,” he said, catching himself an instant before he pluralized the word _god_ , “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” the man groaned, waving to the flight attendant for napkins. “Damn flying.”

“Yeah,” Percy murmured. His attention had been diverted, however, by movement outside his window.

A massive eagle swept out from underneath the clouds, which had grown considerably in size and darkness the farther the plane got from New York. As the bird passed beneath the plane—too close for Percy’s comfort—the entire aircraft shuddered. Percy’s stomach seemed to roll over when he saw the wing tilting upward at a probably-dangerous angle.

The man next to him groaned, and Percy glanced at him. He didn’t appear to have noticed the eagle yet, and no one else was reacting to it. Percy looked back out the window, heart pounding.

The bird swooped back into sight, keeping pace with the plane. Its wingspan had to be twenty feet, at least, and its feathers seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly golden light. The Mist, perhaps? Or some sort of magic? Obviously this wasn’t an ordinary animal.

It steered itself closer to the airplane, eyes glinting with malice. Percy clenched his hands around the armrests as another surge of turbulence shook everything, worse than ever. This time, several people cried out, and more drinks spilled. The plane rocked to the other side now, and a child a few rows away started wailing. The seatbelt sign pinged on.

Percy stood and climbed over his row’s companion into the aisle. He didn’t know what was going on, but considering a massive evil eagle was attacking an airplane that was flying at probably 30,000 feet above the ground by now, he supposed he had better do something about it. Damn.

“Sir—” the nearest flight attendant began, but Percy, after repressing a sigh, snapped his fingers.

“It’s fine,” he told her. “I’m allowed to be up right now.”

She nodded, as did the passengers within earshot, and he was left alone. No time for dealing with mortals’ questions.

His manipulation of the Mist almost didn’t matter, though, for the plane turned violently and without warning. Percy staggered, catching himself at the last moment against a seat. The plane juddered once again, but Percy clawed his way fully upright and pressed forward amid the rising panic of the other passengers.

Raised voices from within the cockpit greeted him. He paused to ensure Riptide was in his pocket, then rapped on the door.

“Not now!” a voice barked. The plane gave another alarming lurch.

Percy bit his lip, glanced over his shoulder to ensure no one was listening, and took a risk. “I’m the sky marshal,” he blurted. “Let me in.”

The door swung open, revealing a man standing there, shaking and pale. “ _You’re_ the sky marshal?” he asked, voice surprised.

“Yep.” Percy moved past him and closed the door behind him. “Listen, we have a situation.” He once more tried not to sigh. This was _not_ what he had wanted to deal with during this flight, but then again, when did he ever get what he wanted? “You seem to be having some trouble handling this turbulence, and the passengers are getting worried.” He decided to neglect mentioning the eagle.

The other person present, obviously the pilot, turned around in her seat. She was probably mid-twenties, around Percy’s age. Her eyes bored intensely into his from beneath her headset and green hijab. “Marshal,” she said, “with all due respect, unless you somehow have more knowledge than I do concerning how to fly through a thunderstorm, I suggest you return to your seat. Now.”

She turned back to the controls as she spoke, and Percy could see her fingers white-knuckled on the joystick. (Or whatever it was called; the woman was correct in her implication that Percy knew nothing about flying.)

“Sam,” the co-pilot said, “shouldn’t we announce something? Reassure the passengers?”

The pilot, Sam, blew out an exasperated breath. “Give me a minute.”

Percy, not willing to leave yet, moved to where he could see her face again. To his shock, he saw her eyes following something in the clouds. Percy gazed out the window too—sure enough, the eagle was back to darting around the plane, even closer now. And the storm had risen around them, plunging them into a peculiar semi-darkness. Rain pattered on the window. The eagle swept by, claws reaching out toward the window before the creature pulled up at the last moment. A _whoosh-_ ing sound accompanied the resulting downward thrust. Sam gritted her teeth as she fought to keep the shaking plane level.

“You can see through the Mist,” Percy whispered.

Instantly, her gaze locked with his. “You can see that—?”

“Giant, pissed-looking eagle? Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Eagle?” the co-pilot yelped. He sounded on the verge of hysteria now, breaths coming quick and fast. “What eagle?”

“Nothing, Daniel,” Sam said placatingly. “Sit back down.”

He did, but Percy noticed his legs shaking. Coming to a quick decision, Percy turned back to Daniel and raised his hand.

“Why don’t you take a nap, Daniel? We’ve got this,” he muttered, then clicked his fingers. Daniel’s eyelids drooped, then closed.

“Right,” Percy straightened up, but dropped to his knees as the plane’s nose dipped abruptly. Sam cried out, fighting the movement, and managed to wrestle the craft to a mostly level state.

“Shit,” she groaned. “What does this thing want? And what did you just do to my co-pilot?”

“Uh, kind of a Jedi mind trick with the Mist. Harmless, I promise. So,” Percy grabbed her chair’s armrest and leaned over, “you’re a demigod?”

She looked askance. “Is this really the time?”

“Hmm. Good point.” He shifted his attention back to the rain-lashed window and squinted. He could barely make out the eagle now through the storm. Only a flash of lightning backlit it enough to be recognizable. “So what is this thing? Other than a bird of prey that’s decided we’re its next… well, prey?”

“Not sure yet, but we’ve got to get these people out of danger. Maybe I can land…”

As if it heard Sam’s words, the eagle chose that moment to dive directly for them. Its shadow passed over the window toward the main section of the plane. A resounding crash shook everything. Percy heard screams from the cabin. Then, footsteps, distinct from the thunder, sounded on the roof above and behind them.

“Since when does Angry Bird have feet?” Percy wondered. “Those can’t be its claws…”

He pulled Riptide from his pocket and uncapped it. Sam didn’t react beyond raising an eyebrow.

“That thing doesn’t talk, does it?”

Percy blinked. “I… I know you said this isn’t the best time, but… you don’t happen to know Magnus Chase, do you?”

“He’s a friend…” Her eyes widened. “You’re Percy, aren’t you?”

“The one and—” A deafening creak, akin to the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard but a thousand times worse, interrupted him. “What was that?”

He rose and flung open the cockpit door, just as a sudden rush of wind sent the plane listing to the side once again. The passengers rocked over in unison, and Percy thought absurdly of _Star Trek_. He heard Sam cursing behind him, but ignored her as he rushed forward.

“Well damn,” he sighed, peering out at the wing.

Angry Bird had transformed: its sleek bird’s body had become humanoid, though the wings remained on its back, and it was far from a normal humanoid size. It was at least half the size of the jet, and appeared to be doing its best to pry the left wing from the body of the plane, screeching all the while. With each beat of its golden wings, an immense gust of wind swept in and further upsetting the plane’s equilibrium. That, combined with its weight, forced the plane downward. The storm was easing up, but probably because they were losing altitude way faster than Percy was comfortable with.

“Hey, Sam?” Percy called. “Any way I could get some backup?”

“I’m flying here, idiot!”

“What’s happening?” a passenger cried over the general din of panic.

“Nothing,” Percy lied. He then raised his voice and hand, facing everyone, making eye contact with as many in the cabin as he could. “You’re all fine, nothing’s happening, and in fact you’re so relaxed you’re falling asleep. Not you, Sam,” he added, quieter, as an afterthought, just in case.

A snap of his fingers later, and the plane grew quieter. Some fell asleep in seconds, while others simply started to nod off. Percy exhaled in relief. Unfortunately, the peace was broken instantly by Angry Bird.

The wind picked up, nearing hurricane speeds. The creature’s wings flapped more insistently. The plane’s wing bent under the force of its claws, and the entire vessel dropped into a terrifying dive.

“Sam!”

Percy rushed back into the cockpit. Sam was still working the controls, but with the damage Angry Bird was inflicting, soon her efforts would be futile. In a few moments, though, with much cursing, she leveled them out slightly.

“I’ve got to land,” she cried. “There’s an airport nearby that can accommodate us, I just reached out to their air traffic control.”

“Lovely.”

She glanced at him. “Can you hold him off until then?”

Percy sighed. “Yeah, yeah. But dammit, I’m supposed to be retired.”

“Me too, Percy,” she laughed, a little strained but still sincere. “Me too.”

Their eyes met, and Percy grinned in spite of himself. “Take us home, pilot.”

“Keep us alive, demigod,” she shot back.

He saluted with a free hand, then, hefting Riptide, dove into battle. And if he was cursing under his breath the entire time, well, no one was around to hear.

* * *

Well, that could have been worse.

His clothes were ripped and singed, but the small fire in the engine was out. Sure, the wing was hanging off the plane’s main body like a snapped branch after a storm, but the cabin was intact, so Percy considered this a win. As the aircraft taxied across the tarmac, he settled against the pointed bit of the wing’s tail and gazed over at the remains of Angry Bird. The battle would have been easier had it been on the ground, but whoever said Percy Jackson could have nice things was a damn liar. Having to fight a violent, gigantic eagle-man was hard enough, but throw in having to balance on top of a plane, in the rain, and it became a near-impossible task. Especially when said plane was trying to land, one of its wings was crippled beyond repair, and the turbine engine was smoking from the damage.

Still, it had ended well enough, he supposed. He only hoped Zeus wouldn’t mind his hijacking of the storm’s water during the fight. But since he had only destroyed a few million dollars of airline property and saved a couple hundred or so lives, he believed he could get away with it.

The plane at last came to a halt, and the swarms of paramedics, law enforcement, and airport employees descended upon them. Percy waited, trusting in the Mist to keep his presence on the outside of the plane innocuous. After the engine powered down, Sam the pilot emerged from the cockpit, disheveled and fatigued-looking. She descended to the tarmac and smiled when she spotted Percy. He waved, then realized both his hands were free.

Riptide was still embedded in Angry Bird’s severed foot, which had fallen onto the intact wing. Percy forced himself to his feet and climbed over to it. When he yanked on the hilt, it didn’t move.

He sighed. Of course. After that flight, he should have assumed this would not be allowed to be easy.

“I’m retired,” he growled under his breath as he braced his shoe against the hewn foot and pulled on Riptide again. “I should not have to deal with this bullshit! Damn flying!”

His voice rose louder than appropriate, but luckily, the officials and passengers down below were so occupied with sorting out the confusion, his antics went unnoticed—mostly.

Sam approached, watching his continued efforts to extricate the sword with a smile.

“Nice job,” she said once she got within earshot. “I could hear most of the fight. Did you really call him a… stupid chicken man?”

“Well…” Percy laughed. “Yeah. It did confuse him, so it wasn’t a bad strategy.” One more tug on Riptide—nothing. He groaned in frustration and kicked it, severed foot and all, to the ground. Unmoved, Sam simply sidestepped it as it crashed down next to her.

“Hey, I’m not judging your strategy,” she said. “I’ve seen a sword sing Top 40 hits to distract enemies.” She wrapped her hand around Riptide’s hilt and pulled it free in one smooth motion.

Percy dropped to the tarmac beside her and took it. “Thanks. For that, and for, you know, saving us all.”

Her eyes sparkled. “It was a team effort.”

“I’ll take that.” He turned away from the monster’s foot. “I’m Percy Jackson, by the way.”

“Samirah al-Abbas,” she replied, and shook his hand. “Magnus Chase’s friend, former Valkyrie—”

“Those are those Norse warrior girls, right? I remember from that one _Thor_ movie with the weird name.”

Samirah rolled her eyes. “Don’t even get me started on those films. But yeah, a Norse warrior girl.” She glanced around; the authorities and passengers were still milling around. Beyond them, Percy spotted a news van pull up. “Listen, there’s too much risk of being overheard here. Want to meet up later, once the inevitable interrogation is over?”

Percy smiled. “Sounds good.”

* * *

A full two hours passed before they were allowed to leave. Percy ensured the mortals came up with some mundane explanation—like another rogue flock of geese, like with Captain Sully. (Honestly, those people had been lucky Sully was a son of Athena and had thought fast, or that story would have had a very different ending.) As it were, the police had cleared Percy of any suspicion—even going so far as to call him a good Samaritan who had kept everyone calm—and Samirah was being hailed as a hero. The passengers were claiming her piloting skills were so adept that they didn’t even realize anything was wrong until they’d begun their unplanned descent.

A happy ending, but Percy still had questions. He found Samirah sitting at a gate, clutching a cup of coffee like it was her only lifeline. Another cup sat on Percy’s side of the table, which he grabbed and sipped gratefully.

“Hey.”

“Hey again. Thanks for your Jedi mind tricks,” Samirah murmured with a smile. “Makes my life a lot easier with everyone corroborating the freak flock of birds idea.”

“Well, bird, singular,” Percy chuckled. “So it’s only a partial lie. Also, you don’t happen to know what that monster was, do you?”

“Hraesvelg.”

“Bless you.”

She laughed. “No, Hraesvelg is a Norse giant who can turn into an eagle. He’s the cause of wind. A bit out of his territory, and I’ve never had a problem with him before, but maybe _two_ demigods in the air was a big enough deal to trouble him. Norse monsters tend to be… touchy.”

“Yeah, so do Greek ones.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I thought I was done with this.”

“So did I,” she admitted. “One can only save the world so many times before it gets tedious.”

“Exactly! I just wanted a nice, easy flight. Actually, I just wanted a nice, easy life.”

Samirah raised her coffee cup. “Amen to that.”

They grinned at each other. Percy downed some more coffee, despite knowing he had enough adrenaline coursing through him to keep him awake for at least a year. He set down his half-consumed cup and regarded her. “So, is it a better time now?”

She chuckled. “Yes, yes I’m a demigod, too. But still a former Valkyrie, which I’m prouder of.”

“Makes sense, that sounds way cooler anyway.”

They traded stories back and forth for a while, and Percy marveled at how easy it was to talk to her. Listening to her stories of traveling to lands of giants and elves, of fighting zombies and dragons, he felt he had known her for years.

“I’ll have to introduce you to Annabeth,” he said. “I have a feeling you two will really hit it off.”

That’s when he remembered. “Dammit, hang on.” He rummaged in his pockets, but came up empty. “You… don’t happen to have your phone on you, do you?”

“I do, yeah.” She handed it over. “I have a bad feeling yours is somewhere in Ohio or somewhere, broken into a thousand pieces.”

He nodded, grimacing, as he dialed. Annabeth answered in two rings. “Hello?”

The strain and fear in her voice made him wince. “Hey, Wise Girl,” he said. “Um… well, the good news is, I landed.”

“Oh my gods, Percy, what happened? I was tracking your flight but then it disappeared. And no one with the airline would tell me anything, and—”

“Yeah, well… we kind of had to make an emergency landing.” He summarized what had happened with Angry Bird, or whatever Samirah had said his name was. “And now we’re… actually, I’m not sure what city we’re in.”

“Indianapolis,” Samirah supplied.

“Who’s that?” Annabeth asked.

“Oh!” Percy turned on speaker phone. “Right, sorry. Annabeth, this is Samirah. She’s a friend of Magnus’, and was my pilot. I want to have her over for dinner… You know, as soon as I get home.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Annabeth said firmly. “I’ll take care of that, just stay put.”

“What?”

“Talk to you soon.” And with that, she hung up.

“Okay, well, I love you too,” he muttered.

Samirah smiled. “I like her. Did you mean it about dinner?”

“Of course!” Percy handed her phone back. “You bought me coffee and are a badass pilot Valkyrie warrior. I’d be an idiot not to repay you in food.”

She laughed. “Well I won’t dissuade you. So is Annabeth arranging a ride for us or something?”

“I wish I knew. But she always has a plan.”

They waited for nearly an hour for Annabeth to call back. Samirah called her husband, Amir, while Percy tracked down something for them to eat. An airport employee had promised Sam that they’d be given food vouchers, but so far hadn’t received them (typical). So Percy borrowed money from Sam—his wallet being lost as well—and they feasted on mediocre airport food.

At last, a text arrived on Samirah’s phone.

_Go outside_ , Annabeth instructed, _to the east side of the tarmac_.

Percy and Samirah exchanged a confused glance but obeyed nonetheless. Things were still in some disarray, so they were able to use the sight of Samirah in her pilot uniform and her powers of persuasion to escape the place with little effort. And out at the edge of the tarmac…

“Boss!”

“Blackjack!” Percy exclaimed, striding forward. “What’s going on, dude?”

“Heard through the grapevine you needed a rescue.”

“How did you get here so fast?” Percy grabbed the pegasus’ mane and hoisted himself up, then held out a hand to assist Samirah.

“I was in the neighborhood, seeing a cousin in Chicago. Good thing too. Looks like you had a nice trip?”

“Har dee har,” Percy said. “Can we go?”

“Sure thing, boss.” Blackjack spread his wings and took off. Percy sighed in relief as the ruined airplane, remnants of Angry Bird, and all the drama faded into the distance.

“What are you going to tell your employers, Samirah?” Percy asked.

He felt her shrug behind him. “I’ll call later and say I got a ride out of the city. They said I could go. I’ve never been so grateful for the glamour—your Mist, that is.”

“Hey, boss?” Blackjack interjected. “By the way, what’s with the monster-slaying? I thought you were retired.”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Do not get me started.”


End file.
